Fred, just turned nineteen, gripped his rifle tight against his chest. Soot and dirt caked his face, giving him an ashen mask over his pasty, Irish skin. His throat hummed but his lips trembled and chopped up the melodic breathing.
This week, I turned 24 and opened Science Fiction Trouble Feature, Huggable Riot's 11th sketch revue at The Annoyance Theater. SFTF is a show that takes the audience through a myriad of satire and sketch comedy on current topics-- all told through the lens of genre and its B-Movie theme. I love it. I've never been prouder of a show I've been apart of and helped create.
Procrastination and an impromptu list on why I love writing to get me out of this recent funk.
I’ve been finding myself escaping into the ethers of the internet the past few days. Last night, I researched campers for four hours when I could’ve used that time to write, read a friend’s novel, or memorize lines for an upcoming show. Today, while I’m writing this blog post, I’m watching drum line cadence videos.
This is my first novel. I've learned in this process that determination and forcing yourself to sit down and write is the most important practice in achieving any writing goal.
Epilogue. One of the coolest words I finally got to write in my first novel. I'm almost within arm's distance of the finish line.
As I plow through the final plot points, I'm mentally preparing myself for that moment of initial completion... Right now, I'm working toward the approaching moment where I can say, "I wrote a book."
My mother told me to stay on our side of the yard. Every time I came to visit, after moving out and starting my own family, Mom said that I needed to say on our side of the yard.
These are my raw thoughts this week. This is a part of the creative process. You have personal rough patches. Acknowledge them, feel them, but power through. It will be worth it soon enough.
Today's topic stems from a trend I see among budding artists, myself included: we apologize for our art too damn much.